


Quoting Jason Mraz, I'm Yours

by pcyeosh (sujebi)



Category: NCT (Band), SM Rookies
Genre: Canon Related, Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 22:10:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6628624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sujebi/pseuds/pcyeosh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny expects more of Bangkok than just lounging in a coffee shop, but the company of a certain someone makes all the difference.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quoting Jason Mraz, I'm Yours

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](https://twitter.com/smrookies/status/639453590545764355) and [this](https://twitter.com/jaehyunbom/status/711436641559121920), title taken from Jason Mraz's "I'm Yours" (obviously) from [this reply](https://twitter.com/smrookies/status/658943725662416896) with extra cheese, courtesy of Seo Youngho.

Johnny plops himself down with a huff, trying to make himself comfortable on the plastic-metal chair as his eyes roam over the stuffy food joint area. He sighs, feeling dejected, and shifts his gaze to the vast landscape to his left. He has decided to sit at the balcony table on purpose, so _at least_ he can have some kind of ‘local experience’ by overseeing the buzz of a busy Bangkok afternoon.

He snaps his head back as a rustle catches his attention. A plastic, curved-lidded cup is now placed in front of him, decorated with prints of purple swirls and cartoon illustrations. The foamy, pinkish liquid inside makes him salivate a little. Maybe a cold beverage in the midst of Bangkok hot air won’t be so bad. And now he finds himself having, if he must say, a long-awaited company.

He trails his gaze at the person now sitting opposite him. A pale-skinned boy clad in a striped shirt, stretching his lean limbs while maintaining an eye-contact with him; wide eyes, almond-shaped with a slight upwards slant at the ends, somewhat reminding him of a cat’s, framed by dark-rimmed glasses that is perching on top of a sharp nose. Johnny must admit that the glasses compliment the boy’s features really well.

“What?” The boy speaks, mostly because he is itching to break the unusual silence between them, Johnny guesses. “I bought you the strawberry one so we can share and try out different flavors.”

Johnny just nods in acknowledgement at that. “Of all the wonderful places in the country we can explore, you want us to spend the time at a mall.” He says, more of a statement than a question.

The boy in front of him just looks back, wide eyes staring from under long bangs, and shrugs.

“You said you wanted to see the place where I grew up,” said boy sips another from his own purple cup -- Johnny thinks it’s probably something with blueberries -- and continues. “So I brought you here. I practically spent my time here as much as I spent my time at school.”

Johnny scoffs. “I thought when you said _Paragon_ , it was going to be somewhere more culture-inclined than this.” He gestures at his surrounding. Honestly, hanging out in a food joint is a common experience he can do in any malls back in Seoul, or anywhere else in the world.

“Well, you should have booked a tour, something like, _‘Exploring the Beauty of Thailand’_ , if you wanted those kind of things.” The boy gestures animatedly, arms raised in an exaggerated move; before whipping his phone out of his jeans pocket, a slight frown apparent in his face.

“It’s okay, though.” Johnny takes the first sip of his drink, it’s quite good. “I’d rather go with you.” He finds himself grinning at the smile slowly creeping on the boy’s face. “Maybe you should open your own tour, like ‘Ten’s Average Bangkok Teenager Life Tour’, or something.”

Said boy, Ten, scrunches his face in a cute manner, trying to hold in his laugh. “That’s not funny.”

“You laughed.” Johnny merely states.

“Fatass.”

Ten never uses honorific when they’re speaking English, and Johnny kind of likes that.

They fall into a comfortable silence, both slowly receding back into each of their own thoughts. Ten is fiddling with his phone, like he always does. Johnny thinks this _definitely_ is not going to be any different from their usual hangouts. So, like he always does, Johnny whips out the book he is currently on, _‘What the Dog Saw’_ by Malcolm Gladwell. It’s not quite recent, but nonetheless he enjoys reading it, as well as the previous books by said _The New Yorker_ journalist. His father’s recommendations never fall short from expectation.

But, like the good idol-to-be he is, he never forget to snap a selfie as a documentation of his perfect face and his favorite pastime: reading. He poses with the background of Paragon’s polished avenues, holding the book close to his face with a slight smile -- making sure the title is also captured perfectly -- and snaps a shot.

A few minutes into reading -- he is close to the last third of the book -- Ten starts to fidget on his seat. From his peripheral vision, Johnny can see the occasional glances thrown at his direction, the fingers tapping against the table; it’s about time that the younger boy is getting bored on his own.

After marking his page, Johnny puts down the book on the table, shifting his sight to the boy now currently on the phone.

“I’m calling Tern now, she said something about a new, great restaurant and I forget which one it is.” Ten says, explaining himself. Living in Korea for the last few years almost makes him know his way as much as a visiting tourist like Johnny. “What book is it?”

Johnny notices Ten has been eyeing the cover, so he pushes it forward so that Ten can read the title properly.

“It’s an article compilation from one of the best _The New Yorker_ journalist. Lots of hard words in it.” He adds the last part just to mess with the Thai native boy.

Despite the remark, Ten doesn’t really react. Johnny knows the boy prefers singing and dancing over reading, hence the lack of interest. He is now slurping his drink, eyes still intent on Johnny’s book for some reason, while most likely waiting for his sister to pick up the call.

And for some reason too, Johnny finds himself snapping a picture. It stirs something in him, how Ten casually purses his lips drinking, the way his bangs fall over his eyes, the slight pop of lean muscles on his arm ruffling his own hair. He looks so perfectly imperfect and _humane_ , the side of casual Ten without the pretension of honorifics and stage manner that only Johnny can see -- or so what he wants.

Ten suddenly snaps up and looks at Johnny, who stares blankly at him with his phone being held loosely in his hand. He raises an questioning eyebrow, but Johnny seems to be in a trance, for once the older guy doesn’t respond to the slightest of his moves.

“Hey,” Ten calls out. “You aren’t going to finish that, hyung?” He asks in Korean, gesturing at the seemingly full cup on the other side of the table.

Johnny snaps back, slightly embarassed for being caught staring, and glances at the melting smoothie in front of him. “What. I want it.” He deadpans, grabs the cup, and drinks a good amount of it. “Mmm … this is surprisingly nice!”

“Ah! Don’t drink all of it, hyung! I want to try!” Ten whines, suddenly going into the ‘ _dongsaeng_ mode’ that he always abuses, full of cutesy actions.

Johnny relents at that, chuckling. He offers Ten his cup, the boy slurping noisly on the other end, smacking his lips once he’s done.

“Nah. The blueberry one is better.” He says. Johnny _knows_ it _is_ blueberry. “Let’s just go. Tern didn’t pick up, I guess we should just choose today’s lunch on random. What’s looking good…” he trails off, eyes scanning over the food joint.

Johnny walks closely behind, just letting the boy choose -- for that he doesn’t know how to read any of these Thai letters, and the other reason….

Maybe he just wants to watch Ten, unguarded, casual, relaxed, and leading him around impatiently like an overexcited puppy.

Just only for him to see.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very self-indulgent fic. I can't resist them orz. Now that there are more NCT contents being released, seeing how these two act feels like finding my first ever otp (ehm, chanbaek) all over again ;A; //once you go baekyeol you never go back//


End file.
